World Shakers
by WolfShadows32
Summary: Ellie Caffey hasn't stepped in a Jaeger for almost three years. With a good setup in the UK, things turn upside down when she gets a visit from an old friend called Stacker Pentecost. Against everything she's promised herself years ago, Ellie finds herself returning to the Pan Pacific Defense Corps beside her old partner. Chuck/OC.
1. Atlas

**World Shakers**

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**A/N:** Soooo, Pacific Rim is an amazing awesome movie that I couldn't help but write fanfiction for. The ideas are awesome, I love the characters and Guillermo De Torro is absolutely wonderful. In all honesty, I'm petrified to be posting anything on the site (I'm good at lurking about in empty silence), but I'm bursting with the opportunity to post something! One thing is, that I am positively absolutely terrible at updating at good points, and considering it's nearing exams...!

But still, with that in mind, I'm practically in love with Chuck. I love the basis of his character, and maybe it's the lure of having a more complex character than what appears (an arrogant hot-head with daddy issues). I don't know, I've given up trying to understand my fascination with characters like this.

In any case, I just felt like this slightly man-heavy movie could use a little bit more girl power. But well rounded, thought-out (I hope so) girl power. So... Enjoy!

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**Warnings:** Alright, since I kind of believe that reality is one of the best things to have in a fanfic, bad words may be popping up occasionally here and there. I mean, it is a war story. Kind of. But there is military involved, and a lot of stressful fighting and tensions tend to run high a lot. That said, I do not believe in dropping f-bombs or whatever other nasty curse word in every single sentence. As such, any nasty words will be rare-ish in appearance. I'm a believer in a rather clean set of writing, no matter how bad my mouth can be in RL! Haha.

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_**World Shakers  
**_

_Ellie Caffey hasn't stepped in a Jaeger for almost three years. With a good setup in the UK, things turn upside down when she gets a visit from an old friend called Stacker Pentecost. Against everything she's promised herself years ago, Ellie finds herself returning to the Pan Pacific Defense Corps to stop the apocalypse, beside her old partner. With the end of the world nigh, she meets old friends, and new aquaintances, and a world she'd thought she'd left long ago.  
_

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**Chapter 1: Atlas**

It was making me angry, the way Stacker was staring at me–as if he knew better, but was still trying to figure out something reprehensibly stupid in my unhappy expression. He stood with a hand in his coat, expectant and calm–no different at all from when I'd worked with him so many years ago. Sometimes I had wondered if he was made of stone or marble–he never seemed to change, no matter what happened. Just like now.

I remembered that I had appreciated that part of him, then.

"Why, Pentecost? There's a reason we aren't a part of the program anymore. We left it behind us."

"And now I'm asking you to come back."

I glared. "_Why_?" I repeated.

With a straight face, he continued to stare, his chin lifting the slightest bit. It always happened when he was going deliver something more or less inspirational in his own subtle Pentecost way. "Didn't you hear, Caffey? I need you because the world is coming to an end. And I'm not going to sit on my arse and let it happen." With a small narrowing of his eyes, Stacker took a deep breath and sat down onto the cushioned stool next to me, his back to the counter. "Are you?"

I gave a small sigh as the small screen in front of the shelves lined with numerous bottles of alcohol buzzed excitedly, and wiped my thumbs up and down the sides of my glass, fiddling with the cold condensation and drawing shapes in the fog. It was a little weird to see Pentecost again, not to mention in some bar far away in another tiny foreign country. I wouldn't have put it past him if he'd had me followed for those past few days, but it seemed a little strange that he knew where I was going on some random night and had decided to meet me there, in front of so many civilians.

He should have just waited at my apartment.

"I've been hearing everything, Stacker. Just because I've left doesn't mean I don't know practically everything that's going on. The world of the PPDC continues to turn, and I'm watching, uninvolved, from the sidelines. I know the Jaeger program has been shut down. There's no use in coming back, and I won't be."

Despite the influx of people in and entering the bar, there was a surprisingly small amount of people moving about, seemingly more content with anchoring themselves at a table, booth or seat along the long bar that separated the patrons from the bartenders. Though I wasn't truly all that concerned with it, I knew that there was a very small chance that anyone would overhear us from wherever they sat. They were either too busy with themselves and their company, or too far away to be able to hear anything. The Pan Pacific Defense Corps tended to drill those security habits in really hard and when they got in you, they never really ever came out.

"Then you know how few of you there are left, Ellie. So few left to protect our planet," Pentecost urged as he leaned backwards against the countertop. I could see in the corner of my eyes, right outside the large window of the bar, men in military suits, all lined up with their backs ram-rod straight, eyes ready and watching for any complications in Stacker's strange visit.

"There are enough," I provided monotonously, focusing on my glass of half-empty whiskey and childishly refusing to look in his direction. He and I both knew I'd lied through my teeth. Four was most certainly _not _enough; not for anything, really, and certainly not for a planet. Leave it to the politicians to screw over their own people.

Frustratedly, Stacker sighed, and for once I could (strange things were happening absolutely everywhere huh?), from the corner of my eye, see the enormous weight that he had been, and was still carrying on his shoulders. They slumped almost infinitesimally (and honestly I don't know even now if they'd actually done that), and they never _ever _did that. Well, at least not ever when I'd been around to see it. It really was like he carried the world on his shoulders, I'd give him that.

"Well, if you know so much, then you know that they're all being sent to the Hong Kong Shatterdome for the final stand."

"I know," I replied, eyeing the TV above the shelves as one curly blonde-haired bartender fluttered about, putting on flashy shows with her male partner. I felt the harsh twinge in my chest as the two flung ice-cold shakers between each other, wow-ing the eager (and most likely drunk) patrons as they watched. They moved together as if they were neurally connected. "I'm not coming."

There was a pause then, and I wondered if Stacker had heard me at all, and was still waiting for my reply. I was about to turn to him and speak when he beat me to it. "You left us almost without a word. First you, and then her; both gone, with no explanation," he recalled quietly, staring ahead. "Have you ever thought what Stasz would think?"

"Gail," I spoke through gritted teeth, the grip on my glass tightening, "is not coming back to the program. We've been through this already. There is no way I'm letting her in a Jaeger again; we've been through enough." I finally risked a look at Stacker as he sat beside me in a dingy bar on the coast of Britain, the both of us wary and tired of the world, and each other. He was looking at me with that all-seeing expression draped over his superior face, and it brought back memories I fought to push back down. Hard.

"Even if she wanted to get back in?" Stacker asked gently.

"Especially if," I amended.

Grabbing at my glass, I threw the last contents of my whiskey down my throat, the alcohol burning all the way down and buzzing warmly in my stomach. I wasn't drunk, or even tipsy–that always tended to require a good amount of alcohol that I simply didn't have the taste for, and if I did get drunk my accent would become indecipherable. But alcohol numbed things; slowed them down, and that had been a gift that I had seldom been rewarded in my past when I had needed it the most.

Standing, I placed a few bills on the counter and threw my coat on, Stacker standing alongside me. "We won't do it, Stacker," I told him firmly as we walked out of the bar together, a few select people staring after us. They knew about me somehow, whether it was from the TV or whatever other reason. It was hard to keep the Jaeger piloting part of your past secret, then, and I wondered what they must have been thinking.

_Is Ellie gonna get back in the game?_

No, she wasn't.

As we came to a stop right outside the bar, Stacker looked at me, a heavy exhale leaving his chest. "The world is coming to an end, Ellie. The human race is spiraling into nonexistence. Where would you rather die?"

Gritting my teeth, I glared at him warily. Lastly, I warned him, "Don't go to her, Stacker. Keep her out of this. It's too dangerous for the both of us."

Then I turned on my heel and began to walk away, my hands tucked warmly into the pockets of my coat whilst steadily ignoring the thong of military men guarding the outside perimeter of the bar. It was still light out, the sun a thumb or two above the horizon, even at nine o'clock in the evening. My eyes fluttered shut as I let what small amount of sunlight that was left in the day warm my face. I hoped this would be the last of the subject I would have to deal with, but I didn't have high hopes. Deep down, I did not expect it to be.

_But Stacker couldn't be so heartless as to let Gail back into a Jaeger... especially if we told him._

My eyes flew open at the sound of Stacker's voice, my legs freezing involuntarily. Either out of habit, or fear, I still don't know. It was probably both, I think. "She's already been moved to the Shatterdome, Ellie, even better than new. Don't you want this?" Once again my eyes flew shut as I felt my teeth begin to grind, my hands curling into fists in the folds of my jacket. I refused to even look at him as the anger, sadness and excitement pooled and boiled at the bottom of my gut before rising like bile up through my stomach and throat.

The sheer effort it took not lash out, move, scream, yell, fight–_anything_–had my eyes watering with obscene tears. Of course I wanted this. It was so close, and I wanted it so badly it was hurting inside, but there were things so much more important than my interests and anything I could have ever wanted. And it made me angry that he had to keep reminding me of what I had, just within reach, but could never touch.

I did not say anything in reply, and I did not move.

"Ellie, you weren't my first stop here."

I felt the boiling heat begin to crawl up my spine, pain spiking through the muscles in my chest and around my ribs as they clenched harder than any daily exercise I could have and had ever done. Excitement, fear and hurt battled wildly in me with my anger, and I attempted to take a deep breath, the air shuddering as it moved through my throat and into my lungs. I could feel the trails of hot tears as they followed gravity down my reddening cheeks, and felt the need to curse.

_Don't let him fucking see._

"Make it your last, Pentecost. You won't see me again."

I hadn't even turned around, but I knew he could hear me. Stacker always did. I bit my lip to prevent myself from letting out the whine or whimper waiting in my throat. I tasted blood.

Without looking back, I walked off, and no one went to stop me.


	2. Pilots

**A/N: **So, I'm incredibly iffy about this entire chapter, because, well, I don't know. But honestly it may or may not be because it's nearly 1 in the morning and I've been studying for my Spanish and Biology exams for the last eight hours, and I'm probably not in my right mind. IB for you people, it will suck out your souls and your humanity. Yay. Anyway, as weird as I feel about this chapter I might as well post because it ain't changing any time soon and I haven't updated. Meep.

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**Chapter 2: Pilots**

"Thanks for letting me into the cockpit guys. Not to mention sneaking me all the way there."

I smiled at Leo as he picked at the buttons in the console, flicking specific ones into the on or off position. Personally, all of them looked exactly the same and I had no idea how Leo knew which switch from the other but then again, I wasn't an aeroplane pilot.

"No problem," Leo replied in heavily Irish-accented English. He turned back and returned my smile as he settled back into his seat, hands resting comfortably on the steer. "I smuggle people onto my flights all the time."

I grinned and shook my head. Since there were no seats in the main bay of the plane, I'd been able to join Leo and his co-pilot Peter in the cockpit. I eyed the large duffle bag tucked underneath my legs. Along with cargo Leo and Peter had apparently been tasked to transport a rather large group of technicians that were to be relocated from their recently closed Shatterdome. The technicians were being loud, and it had become increasingly disconcerting as they stared at me curiously, their small whispered discussions inaudible to my ears as they muttered to each other and occasionally glanced my way conspiratorially.

Leo and Peter had kindly allowed me to join them in the cockpit of the plane. It was uncomfortable having people discuss me as they sat right across me on the other side of the fuselage. They were good men, and good pilots, always taking jobs outside of their homeland in southern-Ireland to ship things back and forth.

I sighed tiredly as I settled back into the single jumpseat that the cockpit contained. I resisted the urge to clamp the bridge of my nose between my fingers as I thought of what exactly it was that I was doing. Why on earth was I on this plane? What was I _doing_?

Did I really know what this meant?

After Stacker's little visit, I had taken a late trolley car home, and the moment I had closed the door behind me I had headed to my couch, throwing my bag unceremoniously onto the table and dropping onto the old cushions. For a good amount of time, I had stared at the wall above my TV, my stomach churning wildly as I reflected on what exactly Stacker's visit had actually meant in the larger scheme of things. Thinking about the consequences of what he was asking me to do was something I'd avoided for months, which had bled into years, and even then when I'd been used to the thought, it still made me a little sick.

So to have them rolling around my head after two years of freedom was enough to chase me to my bathroom, heaving into the porcelain bowl next to the sink.

Spitting into the dirty water, I gripped the edge of the bowl and hauled myself stubbornly up, flushing before moving to the sink to wash my mouth out and splash water on my face. Swirling the water around my tongue, I had realized that it was helping as about as much as a handheld pistol against Kaiju skin and decided to simply brush my teeth, minty mouthwash afterwards and all–anything to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth.

Afterwards, mouth clean and feeling minty-fresh, I had stared at myself in the mirror, taking a good hard look at all the differences in my face. From what I had noticed, there wasn't much of a change in my physical appearance; my eyes were still a clear green, and my hair was still brown and wild (albeit much longer than my piloting days).

But what had really struck me–what was different in my face from the last time I'd actually taken the time to look at it–was the fact that I simply looked_ tired_. Tired of everything: tired of life; of boredom; of sitting at home doing nothing; of joining the British military; and most of all: not being a Jaeger pilot. I missed it: the adrenaline, the action, the people we were able to save, the connection and the feeling of power one got from piloting a giant machine that destroyed the monsters that were threatening out planet. The feeling that you could suddenly face the world–the universe, and everything she can throw at you.

I missed the Drift.

The Drift had always been the only place I could really find peace. The physical silence it allowed seemed to keep me sane, and when someone was truly in your very _head_, I hadn't had to explain anything out loud. When Gail was in my mind, everything made sense. She understood everything that went on in my brain, and nothing could be taken back. The Drift was completely pure, and that was something I had never been used to. Drifting was silence, and it was life, and sometimes nothing seemed more important.

But Gail was always there to keep me human, even when all I wanted to do was get lost in the Drift–into my Jaeger, into the serenity of Gail's mind and her problems and everything that was not me.

I think I had spent almost thirty minutes staring at myself in the mirror of my bathroom, deliberating on what I would do–if I were to do anything, really. All I could think of were Stacker's last words to me:

"_You weren't my first stop Ellie._"

That son of a bitch.

Throwing my hands into my hair, I attempted to pull the strands out by their very roots, a loud angry yell leaving my throat. I wasn't worried that anyone might complain about the noise–my apartment was full of loud people that simply didn't care about anything that you did. I guess it was a nice system. No one got into anyone's business, and everyone kept to themselves. It had served me well for the past two years.

I wondered what Gail was doing at the moment.

That night I slept early. In two days I had packed all my things and had called Leo for the ride I knew he would give me. Like I had told Stacker: just because I was out of the game didn't mean I wasn't listening.

What was probably a few good hours later, I woke to the low voice of Peter as he shook me awake, gently rocking my shoulder.

"Ellie, we're here," he muttered softly.

Blinking roughly, I sat up slowly, groaning quietly as the bones in my neck cracked. Sleeping in the jumpseat of a cargo plane was not necessarily the best way to spend half a night. Looking down as my feet kicked at the large duffle bag beneath my seat, I realized that in hindsight I probably should have used my backpack as a pillow. Even if it would have been uncomfortable, it probably might have saved the seizing muscles in my neck.

I was distracted from my musing when Leo looked back, blue eyes curling over my half-asleep figure. "Strap in El, I don't want you flying across the cockpit when we land." He grinned as Peter focused on attacking those buttons again, looking back curiously in the corner of his eye. "I'd be heartbroken if you broke my cockpit."

"You're too kind, Leo," I sniggered, shaking my head.

"Only the best for you, Ellie_._"

I snorted loudly then, and I think I might have even seen Peter grin from behind his headset.

The landing in Hong Kong was neither incredibly soft, nor incredibly rough, but by the time we had touched solid ground, I was beginning to feel sick. The mixture of potent emotions (anger, fear, excitement and sadness) in my stomach was beginning to make my head feel light, and Peter looked over his shoulder at me quickly before returning to his controls.

"You okay?" he asked without turning backwards. Taking a deep breath, I nodded as he watched me from the corner of his eye, trusting Leo to take over what he could with the controls.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He and Leo both left it alone after that.

I had been disgusted with myself then, I think. On some sort of subconscious level. I was excited to be back at a Shatterdome, Los Angles or not. The prospect of being in a Jaeger again sent excitement coursing through my veins, and I had, at one point been glad that I had been back; I hadn't thought of anything else, and apparently that hadn't settled well with my subconscious. The consequences of returning to Jaeger piloting were much too great, and that I had let myself forget those reasons was appalling.

It left my mind a mess. I hadn't known what to think, and I was growing even more exhausted than I already was. I wanted to go back home and curl up on my couch, but I knew there were a few certain people I needed to speak to first.

Following the herd of technicians as they excitedly made their way out of the plane, I hung back as they listened raptly to what appeared to be a Loccent officer, delivering to them their instructions as to what to do. I only half-listened. As the large group followed the officer to wherever they were supposed to be going, I turned to see Peter exiting the belly of the plane, his headset left behind in the cockpit with Leo.

"You haven't been here before, have you?" he asked, coming to stand beside me. I pursed my lips as I deliberated on how to answer.

"I have, but things seem a little different." I looked around the landing bay of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. It was true, the HK Shatterdome was a little different from the last time I had been here. The doors leading to the inside of the dome had been modified and the landing strip had been moved completely. I didn't doubt that the inside had changed a significant amount as well.

"When was the last time you were here?"

"August 2019," I answered without having to think, "it was a category III. Rasker. Joint deployment with the Cherno Alpha. Crimson Typhoon was in Manila, I think."

Peter gave me a curious smile. "Rasker... I remember watching that on the news. Good job."

I gave a small grin. "Thanks."

"The inside's probably changed a lot since you've been here. Sure that you don't want me to show you around?"

Looking at Peter, I shrugged, deliberating for a few seconds before I shrugged. "It's probably a good idea."

Nodding, Peter gestured for me to follow him as he walked forward, but not before yelling into the back of the plane. "I'm going to make sure Ellie doesn't get lost, okay, Leo?" He must have heard something as a reply because soon enough he was walking away, me trailing closely behind.

"So who do you need to see first?" he asked as we made our way into the elevator that would lead us down into the bowels of the Shatterdome. I was surprised that no one had joined us in the elevator, but grateful.

Taking a deep breath, I bit my lip tilting my head and looking up at him. "Show me around first?"

Glancing at me as the elevator continued its way down, he nodded surely. "Sure."

Peter spent little time before he brought me to the hangar bays, many of the few Jaegers still left standing tall and proud as they were serviced. I watched as technicians and engineers buzzed over the Striker Eureka, hovering over its armour and replacing the anti-Kaiju missiles in its chest.

It took my breath away. Just the sheer size of the Jaegers were amazing, but to be so close to one after so many years had my blood pumping rapidly through my chest. They truly were beautiful; beautiful and wonderfully deadly. I watched as techs strapped in harnesses attended to Striker's Conn-Pod and I felt a twinge of recognition and nostalgia.

"They're beautiful," Peter muttered as we both watched the technicians buzz around Striker. I nodded silently. "I don't know how you could find it in yourself to leave. I wouldn't have had the strength."

Turning towards him, I waited until Peter turned his face to me. "If you had been in the situation I had, you would have had the strength... and if you didn't you would have found it somewhere." Turning my head away, I looked up once more and gave a small cynical grin. "But I don't know how I had done it back then either."

Finally deciding it was time to face the music, Peter led me to the Loccent room after quickly showing me the Crimson Typhoon and (to my surprise) the Gipsy Danger. He assured me that the Cherno Alpha was somewhere in the Shatterdome too, unless it was off patrolling the coast of Hong Kong.

As we slowly made our way to Loccent, the flow of people walking past us grew, and as did the amount of people who spared me a glance that definitely lasted longer than a few seconds. As the control room loomed closer, I steeled myself for what was about to happen.

The Loccent was not as busy as it could have been, considering the active status of one of their Jaegers, but that was probably because whatever patrol the Cherno Alpha had been on, it had not warranted any extreme action. But Pentecost was there, standing over the monitors dutifully as his chief Loccent officer (I believe the man's name was Tendo) watched Cherno's vitals with a critical and experienced eye. I breathed in as I came to stand behind Stacker, Peter standing quietly beside me.

"Marshal."

I wasn't surprised when Stacker turned around slowly, the young woman beside him spinning around quickly before her eyes widened. Stacker, for once, in all the years I had known him lifted an eyebrow in surprise as he stared at me, standing in the Loccent of the Hong Kong Shatterdome.

"Ms. Caffey," he responded formally, his hands curling to grip each other behind his back. "So you decided to come back to us after all."

By now, most of the officers in the Loccent had turned our way, and it surprised me when no one seemed to say a word. Even the Kaidonovskys were unusually silent, and it was becoming painstakingly clear with Tendo also turning towards me and one eye still trained to his monitors, that we were now the main focus of the moment. The attention made my skin crawl just the tiniest bit.

"I did," I responded carefully, chin raising along with my straightening spine in a habitual stance like it tended to do around Stacker. "You didn't really leave me any choice."

Stacker did not frown at my jab, and his face remained carefully blank. "Believe me, Ms. Caffey, that was not my intention."

I shook my head sardonically and shrugged. "Well here I am–I came anyway."

"I can see that," Stacker replied. Eyeing the amount of people in the room watching our exchange curiously, he gestured forward for me to turn around, turning his head to speak to the woman beside him.

She was exceptionally pretty, with short black hair and Asian eyes. The tips of her hair were dyed a startling blue, and to my surprise, the blue seemed to work well with her persona as she stood dutifully next to Stacker, listening carefully to his instructions.

Stacker turned as she nodded to his orders, quickly passing both Pater and I to exit the Loccent. Stacker soon followed, leaving me to trail behind him with a firm, "Come with me," duffle bag and backpack resting heavily on my shoulders. A gentle tap made me turn to Peter, who gave me a quick smile.

"I think I will take that as my cue to leave. Good luck, Ellie. It was a pleasure sneaking you to Hong Kong with the technicians."

I smiled back. "Thank you for doing it, Peter. Tell Leo I said 'thanks' too, okay?" Peter nodded.

"Of course. Goodbye Ellie Caffey, it was truly a pleasure."

With another small grin, Peter was off and out of the Loccent, making his way back to the landing strips and past the Jaeger hangars. I was left standing aimlessly before I remembered that I needed to follow Stacker to wherever he was heading off to, and I quickly made my way out of Loccent, a large group of eyes follow me until they returned to their previous and neglected work.

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The discussion I had with Stacker did not last for long, and left me wondering as to why he had brought me all the way to his office to speak to me privately. In any case, we had ended up walking back to the Loccent to meet Ms. Mako Mori, the woman to whom he had issued his instructions and who would proceed to give me another, more comprehensive tour of the H.K. Shatterdome. Along with showing me my room, of course.

Stacker's office had been interesting to say the least, with a large PPDC logo hanging above the table that occupied one end of the large elongated room. My favourite part had been the view that Stacker's office provided of the surrounding area, and throughout almost the entire conversation, we had spent our time by the doorway, staring out across the vast area of open Chinese land.

"I'll have Miss Mori show you around. I have more pilots to attend to at the moment." I nodded.

"Permission to be dismissed, sir?" Despite my overlying unhappiness about having to come back in the first place, receiving orders and possessing a purpose once again was sending tickles of nostalgia and relaxation up my spine. It felt good to be of use and in action, instead of sitting around giving orders. The thrill of the fight was washing around my feet, and I hadn't even touched a Jaeger.

"You know what coming back means, right Caffey?" Stacker had asked as I walked away from him, already halfway towards his door. Turning, I sighed inwardly as I stared at him, and reminded myself that as almighty as Stacker seemed to be, he did not know everything. "You're going to be getting back into a Jaeger, whether you want to or not." I could not fault him for assuming when he didn't know the whole truth.

"Trust me," I'd replied stonily, "I know exactly what this means."

"This is your room," Ms. Mori–Mako, as she had insisted–told me, directing me to a door with a wheel on the front, reminiscent to the section doors in ships that separated areas of hallways incase of a breach in the hull. The amount of rust that seemed present on the door was obscene, and it made me wonder if it really was mostly rust, or just the strange colour of the door.

"Thank you, Mako," I murmured as I tugged at the door's wheel to push it open. I sighed in relief as the door opened without to much fuss, and I dropped my bags onto the floor as quickly as I could, my muscles screaming in relief. "God, that feels good."

With a peek at the doorway, I realized that Mako was still standing awkwardly against the frame, watching me shyly.

"It is an honour to meet you, Ms. Caffey-" she began, and I raised an eyebrow, "I mean, Ellie. I've studied some of your fighting, and you and Ms. Stasz are very skilled pilots. You both are my inspiration to keep fighting for a Jaeger position."

I looked at the woman in delighted surprise. "You want to be a pilot?"

"Yes," she answered quickly, nodding.

"Well it's good to know another female is vying for a spot in a Jaeger. There are already so few of us to begin with," I commented as I pulled my duffle bag off the floor and onto my bed. "You should show me some of your moves sometime–show me if you're really prepared for taking such a spot."

She nodded vigorously. "Of course." It seemed she had said her piece as she turned quickly, before she sent a quick look towards me over her shoulder. "Remember, my room is only a few doors down when you're ready to see the rest of the Shatterdome," she added quickly. Then she turned and fled my doorway with the same quickness and efficiency she has shown me during my tour.

I made quick work of my things after Mako had left me to my own devices. Throwing most of my clothes in the drawer provided, I shoved my empty duffle underneath what looked like an uncomfortable bed. I hadn't brought much with me, not that I hadn't really accumulated much in my possessions to begin with.

Snatching my backpack off the table lining the other side of the room, I dug through some of the front pockets until I found what I had been searching for.

I had never been one for pictures or photos, but Gail had always seemed to tolerate them enough to ensure a a few their places in my possessions. She always took the opportunity to document important moments of her life. It was essentially luck that I hung around her for enough of her time that I acquired pictures for myself too.

The one I had in my hands was one we had taken long ago, when our piloting years had reached its peak. I eyed Gail's golden hair.

She was incredibly proud of her yellow locks: wavy and short, they gave her a spunk that everyone could appreciate in our very physically and emotionally demanding lives. The picture itself had been taken at the Los Angles Shatterdome: it had just been a successful mission, with a good amount of damage contained to a small area and few civilians dead and, or, injured. We'd done a good job, and the visiting Marshal had dropped a good word as he passed us in the hallway.

So we had made our way to the mess hall, celebrating our un-deadness after another mission when one of the officers sitting with us had pulled a camera from within the folds of his uniform, demanding jokingly that we let him take a photo of us on account that it was his birthday and that we had done a good job as his present. I'd consented with a shrug, Gail nodding happily as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

A week after before sparring in the Kwoon room, she handed me a developed copy, promising that she had a copy for herself as well. It was one of the very few pictures I ever really kept.

It reminded me of my second objective in the Shatterdome. Quickly finishing putting away my things, I went the few doors down to Mako's room, rapping quickly on the iron door.

When she let me in, she smiled before I spoke, fingers playing with the seams inside the pockets of my pants. "Mako, I know you were going to show me around, but before we go, can we make a quick stop somewhere else first?"

A flash of understanding appeared on Mako's face and she nodded, her head bobbing up and down quickly. "Of course," she answered before leading me out of her room. "I'm assuming you wish to see Ranger Stasz?"

I nodded. "Yes." Mako nodded in reply as she moved down the hall knowingly. "I mean, she is _here,_ right?" I asked unsurely. I had not been in contact with Gail for a while. We had, of course, kept in contact when we left the PPDC, but lately we had simply not been able to find the time to call each other and catch up, or even visit like we sometimes did.

"She is," Mako assured before stopping at a door that looked absolutely no different from mine or hers. "This is her room," she told me, turning to leave. "Just stop by when you're finished so I can show you around. Take as much time as you need."

As Mako left, heading back down the hall she had brought me from, I rapped at the door, leaning onto the doorframe as I waited for it to swing open. When it finally did a few seconds after I'd settled into the wall, Gail stood in the doorway dressed in an outfit reminiscent of Mako's–a jumpsuit tied at the waist and a grey shirt–and all the years we'd spent working together. It was like she'd never stopped.

With surprised eyes and bright smile, she grabbed my hand and pulled me into her room, laughing as the two of us hugged. I was laughing quietly too.

"Ellie!" she cried, and I pulled back, grinning. Gail really looked just she had in our years piloting together. Her blonde hair was still a short, wild mess of large curls and her grey eyes shone like an open door into her soul. "They said that you weren't coming," she informed me smugly, and I shook my head, wincing.

"Originally I wasn't," I said, tucking my hands into my pockets. Turning, I found a seat on the edge of a rusted table that sat against the wall of Gail's room. Leaning a hip against it, I let out a tired and disenchanted breath before speaking sarcastically, "But I knew you were coming, and what is a Jaeger without its two pilots?"

"Well, I'm glad you came, Ellie," Gail assured me, ignoring my tone like she often did. "The two of us back in a Conn-Pod again..."

I let out an angry breath. It was driving me crazy, how much Gail wanted to get back in the saddle again. Granted, I understood the feeling, but it baffled me how little she could have cared for the consequences of doing our jobs again. Letting Gail back into a Jaeger was like dancing on a tightrope made of barbed wire above the maw of a giant Kaiju.

"Yeah; I'm not," I scoffed firmly, and I watched as a frown curled onto Gail's lips. "I mean, Gail, as much as I want back in–back into a Jaeger-" I sighed. "Gail, what the hell are you doing here? You know why we can't to do this. We've discussed it."

"El," she stared, crossing her arms and glaring at me. "Ellie, we aren't sure about anything."

"_I'm_ sure," I assured. "Getting back into a Jaeger will _kill _you."

"It might _not_! Ellie, you left without one word to anyone else when we figured out what _might _be happening to me. I had no choice but to follow you when you left!"

I glared. "If you were so set on being suicidal, then why the hell did you come with me?"

"I had no choice," she repeated. I shook my head in disbelief before she continued. "Ellie, look, I trust you. I trust _you_, and I trust my _partner_ with my life," she told me, "where you go, I go- and Ellie, I know that we're partners, but we're also sisters. I know everything about you; what you think about, how you think about them, what you feel, and how you feel about things. I _know _all you want to do is protect me because I've _felt _it. I don't question that all you want is for me to be okay."

"Then why are you arguing?"

"Because I made an oath. I promised that I'd keep the people of this planet safe, no matter the risk."

"It doesn't mean you have to give up your life when you can stop it! Let someone else do the fighting for once!"

Gail shook her head, sighing before looking up at me and frowning sadly. "Ellie, you know I can't-"

"No!" I burst. I shook my head and listened to my own panting breaths, pacing them to calm myself down. Gail hated it when I got angry at her. "When did you get here?" I asked, bluntly interrupting what would have likely been an emotional lecture that I did not have the patience for (not that I usually did anyway). Gail let out an exasperated breath, sending a glare my way. I stared, unmoved, at her.

With a half eye-roll, she gave up. "Five days ago."

"Were you going to tell me?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Eventually."

I sighed. "How did you think you'd ever get into a Conn-Pod with just yourself, anyway?" I asked as Gail took a seat on the edge of her bed; the mattress looked hard and uninviting. She looked at me apologetically.

"I knew you'd come," she started, "but Stacker said that if I wanted to, and if you didn't show up–and he seemed quite sure about that–that he would look through some of the recruits he had here to get me another partner."

I shook my head in disbelief. I knew that the decision made sense–to be honest, I probably would have done the same thing, but that didn't stop me at all from getting angry; it still hurt.

"Ellie, he knows how much I want to get back in the game."

I bit my lip. As much as Stacker seemed to be screwing everything up, it was also my fault. I had never told him the circumstances surrounding our departure from the PPDC anyway. It was making my brain hurt, really, thinking about who was really at fault or who it was I was supposed to blame for getting this mess started again, so I tugged at the last safe strings of conversation-savers I had in my pocket.

"So, how has instructing been? Did you come across a jackass or two like I said?"

"Well, yeah." I raised an eyebrow at Gail's nonchalant demeanor. She was usually a happy person–hard to piss off–but if you did, Gail had a temper, and I knew her well enough to know there was more to her indifferent reply.

"You beat his ass into the ground didn't you?"

"He told me that I must have left piloting because I was a shit pilot."

"Did you knee him between the legs?"

"Of course."

"He must've had a nice face when you did it."

"Oh, it was just beautiful," Gail smirked, eyes crinkling at the ends with mirth as she picked at a seam on the knee of her pants. "Trust me."

The two of us looked at each other for a while, contemplating, before we began giggling, glancing at each other as our giggling evolved into loud laughter.

"You have to admit," Gail continued, shoulders convulsing as she leaned back with an open mouth and a hand on her stomach, "it feels damn good to be back." I nodded my head as I laughed, a hand at my eyes.

"Oh, it does, Gail. It fucking does."


End file.
